Music to your ears

Tag Archives: Brazil

Yes, I know it’s been ages since I lasted posted an article here, and for that I apologise.

After three months, and just over 2,000 hits (thanks for your attention and your patience) I have been discovering that this blogging lark takes lots of time, real discipline and dedication.

Especially when the weather’s as nice as it has been recently. There’s something about a hot sunny day that distracts even the hardened blogger away from the laptop and into the garden, park or great outdoors.

But once out there, those of us who value our musical taste have to be on our guard. There are many great things about a decent Summer’s day: sunshine, blue skies, smiling faces, the warmth of the sun on your skin, a BBQ, a cold drink… to name but a few. However, there is one black cloud on the metaphorical horizon – other people’s music.

It’s as inevitable, inescapable, infuriating and depressing as that other scourge of our Summer, Big Brother. Venture outdoors during the Summer months and your ears will be assaulted by all manner of hideous nonsense masquerading under the name of music.

Assuming, on the optimistic side, that headphones will be too hot and uncomfortable in the intense heat of a prolonged sunny spell, the only option is to fight back against the dross with something obscure, spectacular and achingly cool.

Luckily, I have the very thing.

‘Visions of Dawn’ by Joyce, Nana Vasoncelos and Mauricio Maestro, an album of Brazilian folk/soul, recorded in Paris in 1976, but never previously released. Just the job!

I’ll leave you to discover for yourselves why it’s such a gem and a perfect backdrop to a lazy afternoon enjoying a BBQ, picnic or just lying in the sun.

And I think you can guarantee that it will trump all your neighbours’ poor diets of formulaic pop, ’80’s soft-rock power ballads and done-to-death reggae standards.

For best results, serve with a large pitcher of Sangria or a round of Capirinhas, and follow with a generous helping of ‘When It Falls’ by Zero 7.